To Save You
by Scyrie
Summary: Roderich Eldelstein has managed to survive five years in concentration camps. Supposedly the end of the war is coming soon, that they will soon be freed. But after being used and hurt for five years, does he even know what freedom is anymore? T to be safe, rating may change.


_Summary: Roderich Eldelstein has managed to survive five years in concentration camps.__ Supposedly the end of the war is coming soon, that they will soon be freed__. But after being used and hurt for nearly five years, does he even know what freedom is anymore?_

Gilbert Beilschmidt, the most awesome soldier for his country, wandered around the 'camp' aimlessly. It was more of a prison, if you asked him. But, why would you ask the cockiest soldier in the world, and get one of his 'I'm awesome' rants instead? He avoided other soldiers, except for maybe a curt nod when he was required to, although even that one gesture of submitting really pissed him off.

Skeletons that were once human shied away at the sight of his uniform, the clicking of his boots on the ground. This was a man to be feared. This man was a German. Gilbert's red eyes swept across the cowering bodies, and he frowned. Damn, it was so unawesome being stuck here. After a while, he just observed the damage his country had done, how many lives it had stolen from these innocent people.

Bodies were piled unceremoniously on top of each other in wagons. A lolling head there, a broken arm or leg underneath a different corpse, and the scent of decay all around him. It was disgusting. Putrid black smoke rose from the chimneys, another batch of those dead bodies being burned. Dogs barked savagely, scaring the prisoners even more than necessary. Children cried everywhere he looked, lost and unwanted. And all of the prisoners were busy, digging a mass grave for their dead.

The Prussian (as he liked to consider himself) curled his nose, turned on his heel, and strode back to where him and the other guards were staying. It wasn't the nice, quiet, cozy room he was used to in Berlin, but compared to the living conditions of those around him, having three meals and a bed was heaven.

As he entered the living quarters for him and his fellow soldiers, he paused. Someone was shouting. Perhaps it was just someone being punished for having done something wrong. He didn't really care, but as he passed by the door where the shouting was coming from, he froze in his tracks. Gilbert's blood boiled, and his eyes held nothing but the purest fury.

"_You Jewish slut_!"

Gilbert reacted before he knew what he was really doing, his body moving far faster than his brain could keep up. He kicked the door open, glaring murder at everything he could. Who the hell in their right mind would do this?

A young boy, who couldn't have been in his twenties, was pressed up against the wall, his arms twisted at awkward angles behind his back. His shirt was shoved up around his shoulders, and his trousers were long-since discarded on the floor. Scars marred the pale skin of his back, and ugly, purple bruises covered his arms and face. Holding him forcefully against the wall was one of Gilbert's fellow guards, a German like him. He couldn't believe his eyes; he'd heard rumors of things like this, but he'd never thought he would see it.

Within seconds, Gilbert had ripped the unfamiliar blonde from the Jewish boy, and slammed him against the opposite wall. He started shouting, not even sure what he was saying, a white-hot rage blinding him against proper judgment. Out of the corner of his ruby eyes, the young brunette was slipping to the ground, pulling his clothes back into place, his eyes red from trying to hold back tears.

The Prussian couldn't believe how pissed he was, and before he went too far, he just threw the man out of his room. He went over to the brunette, kneeled next to him, and held out his hand, but the offer wasn't accepted. So, instead he just hauled the poor boy to his feet, trying to ignore the body-wracking horror that was slowly seeping through the prisoner.

"_German_?" Gilbert tried.

"…"

He sighed, already knowing this was going to be more difficult than he wanted it to be. He knew no Hebrew, or really any other language that the brunette might speak, so he just tried the language his grandfather had taught him and his brother.

"English?"

The boy's eyes lit up at that, and he nodded slowly. A flash of fear, and he opened his mouth, trying to croak out a simple 'yes'. Gilbert just shook his head, how could this happen to someone so young? Sure, he was German(Prussian), and loyal to his country, but that didn't mean he had to like what was going on in these God forsaken camps. Slowly, he helped the brunette to his room, and sat him down on the bed.

Violet eyes instantly widened, and Gilbert backed up, holding up his hands to show he wasn't going to do anything to him. Carefully, he moved back to the boy, digging through his pockets and offering him what little food he had on him. It wasn't much, but everything was greedily snatched from his hands. Gilbert held back his usual snicker at the sight before him. The brunette was clearly hungry, and wanted to just shove everything into his mouth, but something inside him must have been saying otherwise, because he ate slowly and almost haughtily, if that was even possible.

"If you eat like that, it's no wonder you're such a stick," he said, raising an eyebrow at the prisoner, who was far-too-obviously trying not to make any sort of eye contact.

"Why are you…?" he slowly asked, and Gilbert blinked.

"Because I'm awesome," the Prussian responded.

Furrowing his eyebrows, the ratty prisoner tilted his head. This man was certainly the oddest German he'd ever come in contact with. He breathed a few times, before daring to steal a glance, jumping slightly at the red eyes watching him intently. Although, he didn't feel threatened by those eyes, which was fairly unusual. "Aren't you going to…?" he asked, hoping his half-sentences were clear enough to understand.

Gilbert's eyes flashed, and he took a step forward. The brunette shied away, tears clouding his already foggy vision. All Germans were the same.

"I'm not going to touch you," was all the German said.

Blinking away his tears, the brunette finally looked at this man who had rescued him. Maybe he could be trusted… no. He shook the thought away, that wasn't possible. _All Germans are the same_ he repeated in his head like a mantra, trying to force himself to hate this man that would most likely take advantage of him sooner or later.

"Do you want water?" Gilbert asked, finally backing away from the brunette.

He nodded in response.

Gilbert nodded back, and headed towards his door. "You'll be alright here?" he asked, actually half-worried that this boy would try and get away, and just walk into the hands of another filthy pig.

He nodded again, and Gilbert left. He walked just outside of the building, rinsed out an old bottle a few times, and filled it with water. Trotting back inside, he offered the bottle to the prisoner, who tried to control his thirst, but ended up drinking all of it within seconds.

"You are allowed to stay here tonight," Gilbert said.

_No… _The Jewish boy widened his eyes, staring at his feet in utter horror. He tried to keep his grip on the bottle, not wanting to drop and break it, for fear of greater punishment.

Gilbert instantly realized his mistake, and crossed his arms, leaning against a wall. "I won't be here tonight, I've got guard duty…" he paused for a while, and then held out his hand, attempting again to be civil. "You really don't have to be afraid of me, I'm Gilbert…"

Warily, the boy took Gilbert's hand; blinking in shock at the reassuring squeeze he was given. "I am Roderich…" he replied slowly.

Holding back a smirk, Gilbert nodded. He knew all along. This was so unawesome.

_A/N: Continue or not? Depends if I feel like it. Or if I figure out how to add more chapters to a story… If this does continue someone should tell me what guard's lives were like at concentration camps, because I seriously couldn't find anything about it._


End file.
